The Alley Of Knockturn
by Elysia-fields
Summary: A young boy has grown up in the darkness of Knockturn Alley, watch as he tries to uncover his hidden past and see the Golden Trio through someone else's eyes. AU
1. An arrival beneath the rain

An Arrival beneath The Rain 

Cluttered buildings lined the street, dark and imposing, the kind of street anyone would naturally avoid yet this street was extremely popular. No-one questioned the sudden burst of people that came every summer to visit the unwelcoming road, nor the enormous purple bus that stopped everyday outside a particular building. It was not an extraordinary building, with blackened bricks and an aged wooden sign that had a faded picture of a cauldron upon it; that is to say if you could see it.

This building was known as the Leaky Cauldron to witches and wizards all over the world, but most importantly it was the only entrance from the muggle world to Diagon Alley, a wondrous place filled with anything a witch or wizard would need, charm books for everyday use, pewter cauldrons for the amateur brewer, Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans for those who like surprises; but for all its awe Diagon Alley had its own piece of darkness.

Another alley lead off from the main high street , even in day light it was cast in obscurity, it was a very different place from Diagon Alley and those who did business there were generally scorned and thought to be up to no good. Like Diagon it had everything a witch or wizard needs, poisonous potions for the sneaky assassin, books filled with dark curses for the vengeful, muggle torturing objects for the cruel; everything that is for the darkest witches and wizards around, and thus the alley was named Knockturn.

Tucked away in the eastern side of Knockturn Alley there was a pub not unlike the Leaky Cauldron, due to the beheading of an infamous witch in the pub's parlour it was rightly named The Witch's Head. If you wanted a pint of mead while the Auror's searched for you then this was the place to go. Needless to say the owner of The Witch's Head, a Mr. Bells, was not that much better than his clientele. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and sharp hazel eyes which seemed to pierce you and give a silent warning.

On a rainy night in late October, Halloween to be exact, something happened that Mr. Bells did not expect. A figure could be seen running through the hollow streets of Knockturn Alley, they were clothed all in black and had a small bundle held tightly to their chest. The person stopped between a gap that separated two houses and stood opposite The Witch's Head, breathing heavily the tall form hurried over to the pub's entrance, after a slight pause of hesitation the small bundle was placed gently on the doorstep and a small note was pinned to its blankets, without further delay the figure banged on the pub's door and then with a loud crack vanished into thin air.

The pub's door opened bathing amber light onto the small bundle swathed in blankets and in turn onto the note pinned to the cloth; two inked words shined serenely in the light

_Nicholas Capella_


	2. Through the Looking Glass

Through the looking glass

Ten years had passed since Mr Bells had taken in the small bundle named Nicholas Capella after much deliberation he grudgingly decided to give the little boy his name and from that day forward Nicholas Capella Bells was born. Knockturn Alley had not changed even today it was raining, neither had Diagon or the Leaky Cauldron apart from the new cook who was said to curse the pea soup.

The Witch's Head was noisy being filled with raucous laughter, shouts demanding more fire whiskey, whispered conversations in darkened corners, silent brooding over frothy tankards and beneath all this was the incessant patter of the rain.

Nicholas was sat upon a stool near a large un-curtained window; lightning flashed momentarily illuminating the extremely fair features of the child. Books and parchment lay in a cluttered heap on a table beside the occupied seat. This was not an unusual position for the boy, for the past week he had been coming and sitting in the same spot every morning, waiting and praying that it would arrive.

Suddenly he leaned forward, against the ashen sky a dark shape could be seen and with each passing moment the small form grew closer and closer to the window and in turn towards an avidly gazing Nicholas. Just as a pair of wings became discernible the eager boy leapt from his stool, knocking it over in the process, and proceeded to run between the numerous tables situated around the room. Ducking through a small opening which led to the serving area, he continued to sneak through a door that revealed a long hallway many portraits lined the walls, of old women eating arms or legs, cloaked figures that had long emaciated hands, large oval mouths and that swooped down on unsuspecting victims.

Shuddering, Nicholas quietly moved down the hallway taking great care not to be heard as he passed the various doors on either side, upon reaching the end of his journey, he silently slipped through an entranceway which led into a parlour. The room was small with two windows that looked out over an empty courtyard, a table which seated six and an assortment of shelves and boxes which were lined against the walls. A sharp tapping at one of the windows brought Nicholas out of his steady gaze, rushing forward the boy opened the window to reveal an owl which curiously had a letter held within its beak, shaking hands received the letter revealing an address in emerald green ink which read:

Mr N. Bells

Servant's room

The Witch's Head

Knockturn Alley

London

Nicholas hesitated for a moment, remembering the bare walls of the room that was filled with one bed, an old rickety wardrobe, a cluttered desk and a dust filled set of drawers that made up his bedroom. Shaking his head he ripped open the letter and read the contents:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY _

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Bells, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall _

_Deputy Headmistress_

Happiness filled Nicholas at the sight but suddenly a loud thud sounded out further down the hallway, Nicholas's head snapped up at the sound and his eyes widened in horror at what that very sound meant he hastily tried to shove the letter into the pocket of his robe but the door burst open and revealed a very irritated and angry looking Mr Bells.

"Clean your mess up! I'll not have you dirtying my pub, insolent boy!" the man snarled.

"Yes sir." Nicholas responded, trying to not roll his eyes in the process that would only lead him into deeper trouble.

"Well get- what have you there boy?" Mr Bells' eyes had narrowed in on the letter still clutched in Nicholas' hand.

"Nothing." The boy responded quickly and tried to hide the letter, but it was too late Mr Bells had already started moving forward and snatched the letter into his large, calloused hands.

"Hogwarts aye?" his voice coloured with mocking.

Nicholas looked down, fists curling in anger.

"I wonder how you're going to pay for it boy? Hmm? That's right you're going to ask me for it aren't ya? If it isn't bad enough I have you increasing living costs here, doing nothing to earn your damn keep." The man spat and his face turned red in unsuppressed rage, then he threw the letter down on the table, whipped out his wand, and a large purple sack appeared out of nowhere and landed with a large thud on the table.

"Luckily for you I went to Gringotts this mornin' use it wisely boy." Mr Bells barked and then left the way he came, grumbling as he did so.

There it was again, Mr Bells had once told Nicholas that no, he did not use his own money to pay for the boys' needs, so where was the money coming from? It was one of the many mysteries that surrounded Nicholas. He chose not to dwell on the "money mystery" he had so aptly named it, and instead quickly sent the owl off with a scribbled reply to the letter and then scanned the equipment list:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY _

Uniform

_First-year students will require: _

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) _

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags _

Set Books

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk_

A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot_

Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling_

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch_

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore_

Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger_

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander _

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Nicholas could not wait, he wanted to learn he had already bought The Standard Book of Spells and A Guide to Transfiguration to read up on the theory, he had even stolen Mr Bells' wand on several occasions and practiced some of the spells. He found that Transfiguration was easily his favourite subject and that Charms was not far behind.

Nicholas ran out of the room, and then dashed back through the hallway, the portraits having no affect on him, so consumed was he in his excitement of knowledge and skill. After retrieving a cloak from his room he proceeded to steal a sausage whilst he was running through the serving area and then bolted out the door.

Breathing in the morning air he sighed, the oppressiveness of the pub leaving him as he walked down the main winding path of Knockturn Alley. Carefully avoiding the old hag's house around the corner he ran through the opening that led into Diagon Alley, the sudden burst of noise and colour comforted him like it always did.

His first stop, of course, was Flourish and Blotts where Nicholas could buy the required reading list but most importantly where they had advanced Transfiguration books that Nicholas had caught himself eyeing more than once. After spending far too long in Flourish and Blotts and leaving behind a rather amused shop owner, Nicholas proceeded to gather the other required equipment.

Some hours later Nicholas was just leaving the Magical Menagerie with a small black kitten he had named Dill because of the reminiscent herb smells that accompanied the small animal. Looking down at his list Nicholas realized that he only had to go retrieve his wand; excitement once again seeped into his step as he walked towards the ancient looking building.

The shrill ringing of a bell accompanied Nicholas' arrival, however he was not the only customer in the shop, a tall man and woman stood with their son; the family of three all had striking blonde hair and either had grey or light blue eyes and extremely pale skin.

The old wand maker, Mr Ollivander, turned at Nicholas' entrance

"Ah, yes Mr Bells, well come in, come in!" he gestured, before returning to the back of the store once more.

Nicholas ducked his head slightly as the fair family turned towards him; the woman stared at him with an expression that Nicholas could not describe.

"And what's your name?" asked a haughty voice.

It took a moment for Nicholas to realize it was the boy around his own age that had voiced the question

"Nicholas." Was the prompt response

"Well I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy." The boy didn't offer his hand or move from his position, but recognition appeared on Nicholas' features, he had heard that name, of course he had Mr Bells had warned him on countless occasions to be weary and respectful whenever in the presence of a Malfoy.

"Nicholas Bells, hmm" Malfoy senior mused, sharp grey eyes taking in the young boys' appearance.

"You surely cannot be Mr Bells' son?" Mr Malfoy asked silkily

"I'm adopted" was the boy's reply

"Such fair features you have child, one has to wonder of your true heritage no?" this time it was the woman who questioned him, Nicholas began to tug at the sleeve of his robes he had never been comfortable when his looks and heritage were concerned and coupled with the warning about the Malfoys from Mr Bells this further enhanced the feeling.

Luckily he was saved as Mr Ollivander came back carrying many long black boxes

"Here you are, Mr Malfoy try this: Beech, Dragon heartstring, 14 inches."

A loud cracking noise could be heard as a chest of drawers split in two

"Definitely not!" Mr Ollivander exclaimed

This sequence of events continued for a time until finally

"Try this one Oak, dragon heartstring, 12 ½ inches, good for duelling."

A burst of silver and green sparks shot out of the wand, Mr Malfoy's hand rested proudly on his son's shoulder as he paid the required price. Once the Malfoy's had left the wand maker turned to study Nicholas,

"Which is your Wand arm?"

"I'm ambidextrous sir." Nicholas replied

"Hmm, indeed . . ." Mr Ollivander trailed off and shuffled around the large shelves behind the counter as a tape measure proceeded to zip around Nicholas of its own accord.

Like he did with Draco, the aged wand maker returned carrying numerous black boxes

"Here: Elm, Unicorn hair, 12 inches good for charms."

A loud smash rang throughout the room as a group of nearby ink pots shattered over the edge of the counter.

"No, no, no certainly not." Was the vehement reply from the wand maker

Another wand was thrust into Nicholas' hand "Try this: Yew, dragon heart string, 11 inches good for the average dueller"

This time two shelves were slammed against the walls causing boxes to fall and be scattered all over the floor.

Mr Ollivander grunted and peered at Nicholas once more with his silvery grey eyes, and then quite suddenly turned on his heel and marched into the farthest reaches of the shop. Not knowing what to do Nicholas simply stood staring apprehensively in the direction where Mr Ollivander had disappeared.

Moments later the ancient wand maker hurried back with another black box,

"This should do it: Black willow, phoenix feather, 11 ½ inches has a hefty amount of power."

A tingling feeling spread through Nicholas' fingers as he received the wand and an elated smile touched his lips as blue and silver sparks burst out of the tip.

"Excellent, excellent . . . now that will be, let's see, seven galleons."

After paying for his wand, Nicholas stopped off at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour for a rather large treat of a double fudge Sunday completed with a strange combination of strawberry sauce. Deciding that he had delayed his inevitable return to The Witch's Head and not wanting to irritate Mr Bells once again, Nicholas made his way back down the winding path of Knockturn Alley just as the sun was about to set.

Thank you for reading,

Hopefully you have enjoyed this chapter, please **REVIEW**! And let me know how I'm getting along!

~Aria


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